"What? Who's this? What are you doing on a police frequency?"
"Well, we're talking to you about catching crooks, unless you'd rather we just let them keep running."
"Uh, no! No, don't do that. Who are you? Identify yourself, please."
"Sorry, we can't do that. Get those guys and we'll be on our way."
The two cop cars came to a stop behind and beside the stolen car and two of the cops took into custody the guy who hadn't run. Two other cops hopped fences and went after the runners.
After they had the first guy in cuffs, one of the cops continued pushing for our identification. I handed communications over to Steph. The next time the cop requested ID, she answered him.
In sultry, Jessica Rabbit tones, she said, “I'm sorry, but we think it best to remain anonymous."
"Damn,” said one cop. “You hear that, Billings? What a voice!"
"She's faking Kathleen Turner, Felton. Don't you know that?"
"Yeah, Billings, I do know that, and she's doing a damn good job of it, too."
Billings asked, “Anonymous helper, where are you?"
Steph looked at me questioningly. I gave her a 'sure, why not?' shrug.
Steph said, “Precisely two thousand feet above you. Would you like to see us?"
"Yes, ma'am. We very much would like to see you."
Steph lit up the canopy with an excellent imitation of a squid's brightly fluctuating territorial display for some ten seconds, then turned it off.
For long moments, there was nothing on the radio, then Felton clicked on and said, “Jee-zus! Did you see that, Billings? It's a gaw-dam UFO!"
"Nah. It's one of those things out of Carrington. Bet anything on it. Are you back at the car yet?"
"Almost there. You?"
"A hunnerd yards to go, easy. This one musta been a damn track star before he got into ripping off stores."
Steph giggled and grinned at me.
"I haven't been called a UFO before."
"Or one of those things out of Carrington, either, as I recall. Well, at least we have options. Having fun, milady?"
"Yes, I am. Are you?"
"Sure. Want to do it again?"
She laughed and said, “We seem to be out of criminals for the moment, Ed."
"Not a problem. There's never a shortage of bad guys. Maybe we ought to make you a costume and think up a fancy name. Try to think of something appropriate."
"You aren't serious, are you?"
"Sure!” I said with a grin. “Why not? You could be the 'Emerald Avenger' or the 'Green Angel' or something like that and swoop down on the forces of evil. You'd have your own fan club overnight."
She seemed unimpressed as she regarded me.
"Indeed. Let me give this some consideration."
Uh, huh. “I'll think about it” usually means a fairly quick answer, but “Let me consider things” usually means that we won't discuss it again for a few days, if ever.
"Okay. Sure. Hey, can I help you design your costume, milady?"
"IF this were ever to happen, I think I'd prefer to design my costume. I wouldn't want to be mistaken for an exotic dancer."
She gave me a wry smile and I feigned heartbreak.
"Oh, that hurts, Steph. Like a knife in my poor little heart."
Her smile widened and she said with saccharine sweetness, “Try not to bleed on the deck, please."
Once the cops had all three baddies in custody, we continued our journey.
Carrington base was ready for us. In the open area beyond the complex a truck waited. We set down long enough to let two people in biosuits transfer the canister to the truck, then were instructed to head for hangar four.
Five biosuited people stood by as we entered the overly-illuminated bay and two of them moved to close the big doors behind us once we were inside. Three of the people followed us in; two of them were armed with M-16 rifles, which meant they were with a regular guard unit, not the special teams.
As they approached the flitter, the one in the middle with a large briefcase said, “Do not step off that craft, sir. Ma'am. I repeat: Do not step off that flitter."
I tried to see the face of the woman in that biosuit, but she was still too far away.
"Why not?” I asked, “We've already been told not to leave the hangar."
"Because I ordered you not to,” she said, stopping her people several yards from the flitter. “That's all you need to know at the moment."
"Well, I've got news, lady. You be nice to us or you're going to be out of here pretty quick. What's going on?"
Tiger yelled at them and hunkered in warning mode on the dashboard. Or maybe he simply stated an opinion of people in bulky yellow biosuits. Steph didn't translate.
Both rifles that had been loosely pointed in our general direction suddenly pointed directly at us, although they weren't raised and specifically aimed.
One of the biosuit guys said, “That's a cat! There's a goddamned cat with them!"
The other one said, “Hell with the cat. I wanna know what he's got in that bag."
"Clothes,” I said. “I figured I might be here for a while."
Tiger yelled again and his hackles went up as his tail became a bottlebrush. Elkor spoke to him quietly, and while his fuzzing didn't quite settle, he sat down on the dash and switched his tail meaningfully.
The woman stepped slightly ahead of her armed companions—which I thought was less than bright of her, since they held rifles—and said, “I'm coming aboard. I want a blood sample from both of you."
Ummm ... Nope. If she doesn't know that Steph isn't human, she isn't in the right information loop, and there must be a reason for that.
I said, “Stay right where you are, lady. I'm calling my boss.” In a lower tone, I said, “Steph, fields up. If anyone shoots or seems likely to shoot, stun him hard. The sheet metal walls in this place won't stop rifle bullets if they miss."
"Yes, Ed."
The woman seemed to disregard my words. She continued approaching and seemed shocked that she couldn't see what stopped her cold a few feet from the flitter. She felt the solid-seeming air before her like a mime.
I tapped the console on and as soon as Linda appeared, I said, “Problem here, Fearless Leader."
"Where is here, Dragonfly?"
"Hangar four. They locked us in and now some woman wants a blood sample. From both of us, Linda. Not Tiger and me. Steph and me. She brought two armed guards with her."
Linda sighed softly. “That would probably be Dr. Mills. She's a procedure junkie and she isn't familiar with either AI's or flitters. Ask her."
"Okay, will do.” Turning to face the woman on the ground, I asked, “Hey, lady, are you a procedure junkie?"
The woman seemed taken aback by the question, judging from the way she stiffened and glared up at me through the suit's faceplate.
Linda sighed and said rather sharply, “Ed, get her name, damn it!"
I grinned and said, “Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry. Hey, lady, Linda Baines wants to know if you're Dr. Mills."
The woman frostily said, “As it happens, that's exactly who I am. Now remove that barrier. I'm coming aboard."
"Nope. Steph, how about putting Linda on a big screen?"
Linda's face appeared on a three-foot screen beside me.
"Dr. Mills,” she said, “Stand down, please. If these two aren't dead sometime within the next few hours, you'll know they're clean."
Chapter Twenty
I gave Linda a look of mock incredulity and said, “Well, thanks all to hell, Linda!"
"Think nothing of it,” she said with a smile.
Mills said, “It's my responsibility to determine whether..."
I interrupted her. “You can't cure it, Doc, so why give us a hard time? Just leave us alone ‘till morning."
One of the guards actually raised his rifle and aimed at me.
He firmly said, “I've got him, Dr. Mills.” To me, he said, “You'll do whatever she says, sir, and you'll star
t doing it right now."
"Check your feet, Rambo."
Using my field implant, I kicked up dust in a thin line on the floor. He glanced down, saw the line approaching his boots like a sidewinder, jumped back a pace, and continued his rigid aiming at me while keeping an eye on the ground.
His voice was unsettled, but he said loudly, “Not good enough, sir. Cooperate or..."
I muttered, “He's too spooky. Stun the guards, Steph."
Linda sharply said, “Ed..!"
Both guards collapsed like rag dolls as I said an insincere, “Oops. Too late."
Mills spun at the sounds behind her, dropped her bag, and then hurried to one of the fallen men. She started to reach for a rifle that lay across one man's faceplate.
"Yeah, go for it, Doc,” I said. “She'll knock you cold, too."
Mills froze.
Without turning around, she said, “I was going to move the rifle off him. That's all."
"It won't hurt him. Leave it and stand away. Steph, field those guys over by the door, please, rifles and all. The doc can have them hauled outside when she leaves."
Mills stood rigidly staring as the two guards floated toward the doors, then she turned to face us, stood straight, and stepped a pace toward us.
"Very impressive,” she said, “But I'm the senior medical officer on this base, and I am not leaving without those blood samples."
"Wanna bet?"
Linda said, “Everybody just hold one. Dr. Mills, this unnecessary clash of wills has gone too far already. If you don't leave that hangar immediately, you'll be fired."
Mills looked at the screen suspiciously, then at me the same way.
She said, “If I can be fired for taking my job seriously, then so be it. And if you're really Linda Baines, you can do something to prove it. Otherwise, you're just an image on a screen—on a flitter under his control—and he's already demonstrated both that control and his hostility toward me."
Muttering something that didn't sound too nice, Linda said, “Just a moment while I pull up your personal key, Dr. Mills."
Mills seemed startled when her watch beeped. She automatically lifted her arm to punch the ‘talk’ button, then realized that her bulky biosuit prevented her from doing so. I couldn't stifle a short laugh, but Linda's demeanor remained unamused.
Looking first at Linda's image, then at me, then at Steph, Mills seemed indecisive for a moment, then her gaze again fixed on me as she spoke.
"Ms. Baines—if that's really you, and not simply his computer calling my watch—if these two don't have the virus, they shouldn't mind being tested. Neither should you mind if I test them."
"Jesus H. Frog,” I said, “You just don't give up, do you, Mills? Steph, I'll zap her myself and save you the trouble. Just drop her with the others and we'll call for a pickup."
"Ed!” Linda said sharply. In her previous tone, she continued, “No, Ed. Either of us would be just as suspicious if we hadn't at least opened the comm link ourselves. As I recall, you once questioned whether I was real or not."
"The people at my kitchen table that day were claiming to be from a spaceship, Linda. Okay, then, if you aren't gonna let me zap her, what now?"
With a smile so small as to be almost undetectable, Linda said, “I want you to let her aboard to test Stephanie."
"Excuse the hell out of me, Fearless Leader, but why the hell didn't you just say that before and save us the hassle?"
"Just do it, please, Dragonfly."
My use of 'Fearless Leader' had asked Linda if we were capitulating to higher rank. Her use of 'Dragonfly' had told me that was not the case. Linda was up to something.
Mills regarded all of us with a very visible measure of suspicion as she retrieved her bag from where she'd dropped it and again approached the flitter.
I said, “Uh, huh. Great. Well, she isn't getting any of my blood tonight. Not Tiger's either. She can just sit back and wait for us to die like everybody else."
"Stephanie,” said Linda, “Would you be so kind as to let Dr. Mills try to take a sample of your blood?"
Mills squinted at Linda's image and asked, “What do you mean 'try'?"
Stephanie smiled and sat down. “Certainly, Linda. Unlike Ed, I have no aversion to needles whatsoever."
As Mills began to approach the flitter again Tiger growled and fuzzed up a bit. I petted him and told him to relax.
To Steph I said, “Oh, that was cute, flitter girl. I don't fear needles. I fear clumsy doctors. They let their nurses and aides do all the messy stuff for years and they forget how to tap up a vein. Besides, this one's pissed at me, so you just know it'll take her five or six tries. Maybe more."
Before she stepped onto the flitter's deck, Mills gave me one of those 'I wonder how you'd look roasting on a spit' looks, mingled with a very slight grin. Tiger growled again, but remained on the dashboard.
I said, “Doc, you ought to patent that expression. Want a hand up?"
She coolly said, “I can manage, thank you, if you'll take my bag."
Swinging her oversized hardshell briefcase up to me as if it weighed nothing, she extended it a little higher than necessary. It was an obvious setup, but it was time to let her win a little. I pretended to be surprised when the bag tried to drag my arm down. It had to weigh thirty pounds or more, so not all of my surprise was pretense.
"Damn, Doc! What do you have in here? Your last patient?"
Linda chuckled as Mills stepped onto Stephie's deck and reached for her bag.
"What's the matter?” asked Mills with another small smile. “Are we perhaps a little out of shape?"
I let the bag dangle from one finger and held it at arm's length toward her.
"What do you think? I'll bet you pull that trick every chance you get."
She had to reach above her own shoulder-height to take the bag, and it dragged her arm down fast until she could get her other hand on it and hold it near her waist.
With a raised eyebrow and a very tiny smile, she said, “You're right. I do, but it doesn't work on everybody."
As she turned to face Steph, I said, “Huh. It probably keeps you looking busy treating strained ligaments between unnecessary blood tests."
Mills stiffened and turned to face me.
"Don't say any more for the moment,” she said flatly. As a very deliberate afterthought, she added, “Please."
"Sure,” I said. “Yeah. Gotcha. No sweat, Doc. I won't say another damned word. I'll just sit over here and watch quietly while you poke and prod my friend Stephie. Not a squeak. Nothing. Guaranteed. No..."
Mills sighed loudly and tightly said, “Shut ... Up ... Please,” without parting her teeth.
Linda snickered and said, “Don't let him get to you, Dr. Mills."
"Too late,” I said. “Check it out; she's all tense now. Bet she's got a pill for that, though. No, wait. With her, it's gonna be a shot. Yeah. She's probably really into giving shots. Bet she uses the biggest needles she can find, too."
Mills drew a breath to say something as her arm came up and her finger aimed at my chest. Before she could say whatever was on her mind, Linda spoke.
"Ed, stand down and let her work. We have her attention now. Have a beer and relax."
"Yes, miLady,” I said, giving Mills a fatuous grin. “As you command, miLady."
I turned away from Mills and went to the pilot's seat, then reached into the cooler for a beer. Mills stared hard as my hand and some of my arm disappeared, then reappeared with an Ice House bottle dangling from two fingers. She heard the thump as I closed the lid on the cooler she couldn't see, too. That made her eyes narrow.
"Linda,” I said, opening the beer, “May I know why we wanted her attention?"
"Hang on a few, Ed. Let her work."
I leaned over to peek around Mills at Steph and said, “Linda's being vague, Steph. Know anything about it?"
Steph also leaned a bit and smilingly said, “No, I don't, Ed, but it's been interesting so far."
"You say that about everything. Well, she wants a show, Steph.” I glanced up at Mills and asked, “So when are you gonna start doing doctor-type stuff?"
Mills studied me for a moment, then with a tiny smile said, “Do let me know if you ever need an operation of any kind, won't you?” She then turned to Steph and said, “Take off your jacket and roll up your right sleeve, please."
I took a long look at Steph. Maybe it was only because I knew her so well in her many incarnations, but I just couldn't figure out why others had trouble realizing that she wasn't a real human being.
Mills set her case on a seat and opened it. Steph smilingly hung her field-generated jacket on the seat-back and rolled up her field-generated blouse sleeve as Mills brought out her test kit and prepped a syringe.
Tiger and I scooted over so we could see a little better as the syringe descended toward Steph's arm. Mills’ left hand had a firm grip on the underside of Steph's elbow, and when the needle encountered absolutely no resistance, she quickly yanked her left hand away in surprise.
I laughed and said, “Don't stick yourself with that horse needle, Doc."
Mills took a moment to regroup as she seethed, staring hard at Steph, then she straightened and looked at Linda's image on the screen. Steph giggled. Linda tried to muffle her snicker.
I just grinned and sipped my beer as Mills put the cap back on the needle and put her gear away. For several moments, silence reigned until Mills snapped her case shut and straightened up.
When she started to pick up the case, Linda said, “Dr. Mills."
Mills looked at the screen. After a moment, she asked, “Yes?"
"Believe it or not, this hasn't entirely been a joke at your expense. If your request to train for work with field teams is approved, you'll very likely be working with this particular team for a while. This has been a test of sorts."
Visibly straightening even more, Mills said flatly, “If my qualifications had ever been in doubt, I would never have been employed by 3rd World."
Linda shook her head and said, “For what you've been doing, that's true, Dr. Mills. But you requested field work. For that, you'll have to be able to adapt—often quickly—and trust the judgment of others at times. Do you think you could trust Ed's or Stephanie's judgments about a situation?"
Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 14
